


Merlin's Middle Finger

by HolyKingWasteLand



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Character Study, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, It's one in the morning, Mentioned Character Death, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, We Die Like Men, Written in an Hour, bed time me thinks, canon character death, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 10:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19462465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyKingWasteLand/pseuds/HolyKingWasteLand
Summary: Based on Prompt: "If I die tonight, donate all my organs to those in need, except for my middle finger - give that to the King."





	Merlin's Middle Finger

Bandits close in around them. Merlin growls, his back to Lancelot, magic flickering at his fingertips.

"I swear to god. It's bandits. Why is it always bandits?" Merlin mutters under his breath to himself. Lancelot huffs out a tired laugh and tightens his grip on his sword. 

The bandits charge at them and Merlin shoots out an explosion of magic, knocking a group of them back. Lancelot cuts a few of them down, his blade's edge is sharpened by Merlin's anger.

They keep coming at them until they're all dead, or at least unconscious.

Merlin shakily wrings his hands together. He didn't like killing people, in fact, he actively tried to avoid doing so.

A hand rests on his shoulder and he flinches, only to find Lancelot's kind eyes staring back at him. "I know. I know, Merlin." The knight mumbles, pulling Merlin into his arms.

"It's for Arthur." The knight continues. "For Arthur."

And Merlin's heart begins growing cold.

* * *

Arthur is trapped with Morgana.

Merlin has to get to him and fast, before Arthur is dead- because no matter what he wishes, dead people don't just come back.

There are mercenaries everywhere. 

He doesn't want to hurt them, really, what if they were being controlled by the witch??

But he doesn't have a choice. It's them or Arthur. And he know's who he's choosing.

He'd choose Arthur over the world any day.

And they burn.

* * *

He continues on playing the fool. It's his role, like Arthur's is to be King. Merlin's role is to be clumsy, kind.

Arthur almost doesn't notice it.

The way Merlin has changed over time.

It's very subtle changes, some days Merlin is quiet, calculated. These bouts of insanity only last a few minutes, and he barely catches them, but they're there.

Some days, Merlin goes silent. He'll look out the window, and wring his hands, watching like a hawk. He'd flinch at any sudden movement and his eyes would track it all. It was scary how precise and calculated his movements became at those times.

It was at those times Arthur questioned if he ever really knew his best friend at all.

* * *

Merlin looks down at his clean hands. Clean in the sense that he was just using them to clean Arthur's armour.

He doesn't have clean hands though.

The countless meaningless murders. He's a murderer.

 _For Arthur_ , Lancelot's voice echoes in his head.

He knows his friend never meant for it to get this bad.

Merlin doesn't even have nightmares of the murders anymore. Is he so far gone, that even his mind has stopped trying to guilt him?

Clenching and unclenching his hands, a cloth is squeezed of all it's liquids.

He faintly hears a bird cawing in the distance. His gaze drifts over to the window, where he remains for a few minutes before returning to the task at hand.

His magic did nothing to alert him of the Prince gazing at him curiously.

* * *

When Uther dies, Arthur is vulnerable, but is still trying to stay strong for his kingdom.

Other kingdoms, and especially Morgana, find this to be a key point in their plans, since everyone starts attacking the kingdom.

Luckily Merlin is there.

When they come in the night, Merlin is there to drain the light from their eyes.

He's there to stop assassins and magical creatures. He stops witches, wizards, sorcerers, bandits and the likes.

And at the end of the day, Merlin stumbles back home. A new scar, a new memory, a new name he never learned but took away from this earth. From a _family._

But Merlin stays strong. His heart hardening once more.

Arthur is more important. He's the most important.

Merlin files away these feelings, puts on a brave smile, and returns to his king bright and early the next morning.

* * *

Morgana is attacking again.

Merlin is over it.

He and Gwaine have been given the task of distracting Morgana and her goons while everyone else escapes. He was going to do it himself, but Gwaine ended up getting dragged along (willingly).

As they're surrounded by Morgana's men, Merlin growls angrily, "If I die tonight, Gwaine, donate all my organs to those in need. Except for my middle finger - give that to the King."

Gwaine cackles, swinging around his sword to hit as many men as he can. "Yeah, alright mate! Princess will _love_ that!" 

* * *

At the end of a very long day, Merlin is no longer shaking.

His hands are still. His eyes are fogged over. Gwaine watches with concerned eyes, but Merlin feels nothing anymore.

Arthur is dead.

All of his hard work, all those deaths.

Everything was for nothing.

Arthur still died.

Gwen puts a hand on Merlin's shoulder, but the Warlock is inconsolable.

A single tear runs down his cheek, dripping from his chin into the dirt. A small flower blooms there.

No, nothing is okay right now. But that night, Merlin sits by the graveyard.

He sits, and doesn't speak, doesn't move.

He just thinks.

Thinks of all the names of those he'd killed. Any and all names he heard in passing, from Morgana, or the King himself.

And maybe that's all he needed to do.

And on that night, his heart shed a layer of stone.


End file.
